The True Horror Began On Friday 13th

“I didn’t know you cooked,” I swallowed, watching as Mikey stirred different ingredients into a large pot of what smelt and looked like curry. I rubbed my sore eyes and chuckled weakly as Mikey made a strange face after he’d tasted it.

“Yeah, I’m pretty okay at it,” he sighed, adding a small bit of salt, “My grandma taught me to make a kick ass Shepherd’s Pie,” he smiled. I licked my dry lips and yawned a little, “You sleeping here tonight?”

“I don’t think I can, I haven’t seen my parents in a week and a half,” I chuckled.

“Shit, I forgot you had parents,” Mikey chuckled, “How about you ring them? Or maybe I could ring them and pretend to be Heathers dad and say something like you guys are studying up?” Mikey asked, “Stir this for me and I’ll go call home, tap in your number for me?”

Mikey made the call, spinning off some lie about how I was studying with this ‘Heather’. I sighed and rested my head on the table, mock glaring at Mikey when he ruffled my hair on the way past.

“Buck up kid, you get the spend the night in my humble abode,” he said, taking the metal pan off the stove and pushing it onto the work top.

“I can’t… what am I gonna do about…” I stopped, “You know what,” I mumbled.

“Well… abortion, adoption or you could have the kid and give it too Gee, or have the kid and have it with Gee. Or,” he pulled the rice off the hob, draining it whilst he thought, “Or… nothing. If you don’t want the kid, my first option may be the best,” he said, shaking his head as he put out a sloppy portion for each of us.

“I can’t. I just can’t. I’ve been thinking about it but I can’t. I can’t kill something that is… part of me. If I have the thing and give it to some one else… I don’t know how I’m supposed to give it too some one else. If I give it to Gerard… is he gonna take care of it? I dunno if I can trust him,” I shrugged, digging my fork into the bowl.

“You think about it then, yeah?” Mikey smiled warmly, “You’re not even showing yet. But –my advice- start eating a lot round your parents. So that’d they’ll just think you’re getting a little chubby and your embarrassed about it so that’s why you’re wearing baggy clothes. That is –if you’re keeping it,” he said through a mouthful of food.

I was about to reply when Gerard traipsed in. He was wearing a pair of black and maroon pin striped pyjama bottoms and a black hoody. His eyes were bloodshot, tear marks running down his stubbly cheeks and his hair was stuck to the right side of his face where he had been sleeping.

He trudged passed, his bare feet slapping tiredly on the floor. He brought his arm up and wiped his eyes and nose quickly, snivelling into the black material. I felt a painful lump rise in my throat again. I clenched my fork in my hand. I hated seeing him crying. I hated it.

“Gerard, you want me to make you up something?” Mikey asked, catching him quickly by the wrist.

“Yes please,” Gerard muttered thickly.

“Alright, you go lie down and I’ll bring it in,” Mikey said catching my eye. I felt Gerard shuffle back passed me. I pushed my bowl away as soon as he was gone and let my head fall onto the table. Mikey got up and moved around behind me, rubbing my back quickly before beginning to make Gerard something to eat, “Don’t feel bad, he gets like this. I’ll get his spare pills from mom’s tomorrow and we’ll start him back up again –you’ll see.”

I nodded reluctantly, beginning to feel sick to the bottom of my stomach. It was the worried kind of sick. The kind when you have to stay in hospital waiting room, just waiting for the inevitable.

“I’ll be back now,” Mikey said, slicing the sandwich he had made, “You can take it too him if you want?” he questioned, I shook my head, not being able to bare the sight of him again. I listened intently when Mikey knocked lowly on the bedroom door, stepping in only when Gerard muttered out a grunt, “You ought to go talk to her Gee, she’ll listen, she’s not Laura, she’ll listen,” Mikey murmured, I heard Gerard say something back quickly, “She doesn’t hate you, she loves you Gee, we both do. I’m just worried-“ Gerard cut him off, “Alright, I’m going,” he sighed, leaving the room promptly.

Mikey came back in looking defeated.

“He needs time,” he smiled, “You’ll see,” he nodded, gritting his teeth, “You’ll see,” he muttered, leaving the room again. I washed up silently, putting the rest of the curry in a sandwich bag so I could freeze it.

I found Mikey stewing in the lounge, his fists clenched and his teeth gritted. He tried to look relaxed when I walked in but I wasn’t convinced. I walked over to him and he smiled contortedly, patting my wrist.

“Just give it time.”